


put this love in a photograph

by orphan_account



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, Snapchat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:06:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Eggsy sent Harry a Snapchat, and one time Harry sent one back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys sorry it's not finished; like i said on tumblr, i get impatient but it's here and the first chapter is done, hope u like
> 
> next chapter hopefully soon sorry i'm so slow
> 
> but for now: harry hart is secretly still a teenager probably what a dork
> 
> aaaaaaah
> 
> //fades into the shadows

Snapchat, the notification read in bold letters. And then, below it, #Unwinning.

"Oh, damn it, Eggsy."

Harry didn't have time for this. Not today, at least- Paperwork was, apparently, an unforeseen element in the Arthur position, and it had slowly piled up in the weeks past as Harry resolutely ignored it. After all, he had more important things to do, like... Anything else.

"What's he done now?" Merlin didn't even bother to look up from his own tablet. Eggsy's antics were known far and wide, especially to the man who had trained him, and this was the third time this week he had caught Harry cursing the younger knight under his breath.

Harry dropped his tablet- delicately, of course, as gentlemen Did Not throw temper tantrums, even in the privacy of their own offices -on his desk and sighed, running a hand down his tie as if to settle himself. "He's signed me up for another one of his infernal social media applications," Harry said through a frown. "This is the second time this month."

"He wouldn't do that if you wouldn't give him all your passwords," Merlin said, and damn him if he didn't sound amused by it all.

"Well, yes, but-"

"It's Eggsy," Merlin finished for him, "and you are absolutely whipped."

Harry's glare could have melted a lesser man, but Merlin was frustratingly immune by now. "You've been spending too much time with the recruits, Merlin; Your vocabulary suffers for it."

Merlin finally looked up from his tablet, rolling his eyes as he did so. "So what did your boy download, then? Grindr?"

"I do not know what that is, and if you value your job, you will not inform me." At Kingsman, empty threats seemed to be directly proportional to the amount of paperwork waiting for you. "No, last time, it was that blasted Facebook mess."

Not that Facebook had been the problem. Rather, it had been the multiple Craigslist ads and forum boards Eggsy had linked his fabricated profile in. The sheer amount of notifications had locked up his tablet for hours- Harry could still hear the beeping in the shallowest of his dreams.

"Is that what the internet security lectures were about?" Merlin's lips twisted into a smirk. That had been a brilliant two weeks. "Eggsy's not the kind to repeat a joke, whether they got through to him or not."

"No, I have no idea what he's up to this time." Harry pushed his tablet across his desk towards Merlin, who took it as the unspoken invitation Harry had only half-intended. "There's only puns and mystery here, I'm afraid."

Honestly, Harry had thought Merlin would do more than merely look at the screen before bursting into fully-belly laughter. His faith had proved unfounded.

"Do let me know when you'll be finished," Harry said, primly, and wondered whether it would be worth it if he sent Merlin to Siberia for a few months.

"This is the best thing that's happened in this place since Gawain convinced Percival that Lancelot was in love with him." Merlin stared at the tablet for a beat or two after his laughter died, and the glint of adoration in his eyes was almost disturbing. Merlin only loved two things that much- Big guns, and torturing Harry.

"You know exactly what's happening, don't you?" Harry's mouth pinched into a hard, thin line. "Care to share with the class?"

"No, no, I wouldn't interfere with this for the world. This is going to be so much fun--" Harry huffed, and Merlin looked back up at him, finally, his eyes softening, black to deep brown. "Just let it happen, Hart. You'll like what comes out of it."

Harry eyed the cartoon ghost with distaste. “I sincerely doubt that.”

Rolling his eyes, Merlin stood, and handed Harry his tablet with an air of finality even Chester wouldn’t have been full enough to challenge. “If we’re done discussing your dazzling social life, Arthur, I’ve got an organization to run.”

“Well,” Harry said, his voice dripping with sarcasm belied by the blank of his face. “One of us probably should.” Merlin didn’t even bother replying, which, if the twenty years of working together meant anything, was by far his favourite way of dealing with things he didn’t particularly enjoy. He merely rose from his chair and fled from the room with his usual stiff-legged gait, leaving Harry to repress his smirk alone. “Have a lovely afternoon,” he called to the echoing hall. In the ensuing quiet, Harry’s eyes drifted back to the tablet, lying dark-faced on the table. Lights flashed yellow at the top, a small reminder of whatever Eggsy had in mind for him. It should have beeen easy to turn away. Harry was a Kingsman and more, now; He was the leader of the most effective intelligence agency in the world. If there’s anything he possesses, it’s force of will, certainly enough to simply turn over Merlin’s ridiculously modded doodad and get on with his life.

But.

The paperwork was stacked so high that it’s not even paperwork anymore, just the illusion of it on a screen, little pixels to send flying off to M16 or the CIA or some other ridiculous acronym. And, well, if there was anything else the Kingsmen gave Harry, it was an insatiable curiosity- What else would have him sitting down to hamburgers and fries with an aspiring serial killer? He sighed, a little, as he watched that yellow light blink on and off, beckoning him. Harry knew very well why he couldn’t look away.

It was Eggsy, on the other side of that light.

“Damn him,” Harry said, and reached for the tablet.

Whatever Eggsy was up to, it was much simpler than his last trick. The app itself, though amazing juvenile, was more streamlined, so much so that Harry found the instructions constantly screamed at him in a vast array of colours rather redundant. And, blessedly, it seemed that Eggsy had only added himself to his contacts. Harry looked down at the pink square. The square stared back.

“You are scared of a digital application,” he told himself.

You are scared of a child, he scolded himself.

He was scared of someone who could break his heart, easy as breathing.

“Oh, fuck it.”

In the end, it was nothing, and it was everything. There was no trick, no catch, no gimmick. There was only Eggsy, smiling crookedly at the camera. Only Eggsy, looking soft and brilliant, the first light over the horizon.

hi, harry : ), he had written, and Harry Hart found himself quite lost.


	2. ii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which there are meetings and insecurities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just keep making harry more and more ridiculous, huh? 
> 
> hope you like worldbuilding and politics, yo
> 
> sorry for the lateness, i'm at my mom's and do you know how many computers here have a rich text editor????? ZERO. i'm going home tomorrow so hopefully the next chapter will come faster. :l

Harry had not quite started his term as Arthur in a flurry of popularity. Apparently, that was something that happened when you were brainwashed into becoming a mass murderer in one of the biggest disasters in international history. It just kept on surprising him with new challenges, that. 

Of course, it wasn’t only the ‘accidentally slaughtered an entire church’ thing that had several of the agents hissing his name as a curse. No, never let it be said that Harry Hart couldn’t make his own enemies. After all, the newly mandatory monthly meetings were completely his idea, no megalomaniacal psychopaths necessary. 

It had made perfect sense to him, at the time. Valentine had left them shaken, and their numbers halved. Any military man would tell you that they should pull together and regroup, get a sense of themselves and each other before heading back out into the fray. And, yes, perhaps the Kingsmen were a solitary breed by nature, but Harry was more and more beginning to think that it was merely another false shield Chester King had equipped them with. Besides, as Eggsy had pointed out multiple times since Harry’s return, the world would have well and truly gone to shit if he, Roxy, and Merlin hadn’t all been alive and used to working as a sort of team. That alone was enough to show Harry, in stark reality, how important it was for some semblance of team unity. 

The rest of the Kingsmen, however, did not see it that way. 

It was little more than another obstacle to them, it seemed, and, eventually, one of the braver dissenters had given his opinions straight to Harry’s face. They were agents, after all, and they didn’t need to be babysat, by Arthur or by each other. They were perfectly capable of handling things on their own, and smart enough to figure out what they needed to know without any little study group. The last Arthur had known that. 

The last Arthur, Harry took to kindly reminding everyone, had died from drinking from his own poison after underestimating a failed recruit. Never mind that he had been a self-serving bastard of a snob on top of all that. Perhaps the man could have used a meeting or two of his own; Harry certainly could’ve told him of Eggsy’s clever fingers. His little speeches did little to stop their grumbles, a fact that gave Harry the rather violent urge to burn the organization to the ground, salt the ashes, and start anew, but, erring for caution and safety in numbers, Harry chose to be merely pleased that they cottoned on to the fact he didn’t give a toss what they thought of him. 

Eggsy, of course, delighted in the meetings. 

A performer from childhood, he relished the opportunity to regale all and sundry with the tales of his latest mission. Even the simplest recon was given a full fairy tale service, and, more often than not, he pulled Roxy into his orbit as well. Harry indulged them both, as he often did, no matter how many knowing looks Merlin shot him out of the corner of his eye. The proud smiles on their faces, where before there had only been insecurity and confusion, was enough to make any leader proud. 

Harry very carefully did not think about how perfect Eggsy looked like that, glasses sitting crookedly on his nose, hair ruffled, but his suit perfectly pressed. He did not think about how that smile was constantly fixed on him. No, here Harry was Arthur, and Arthur had no time for the youthful quiver of his heart. 

“Bors,” Harry said, halfway through one such meeting. “A brief summary of your time in Prague, if you will.” He did not miss the quick, unhappy twist of the man’s lips, but Bors- or, rather, the image of Bors –stood, and began speaking in that same dry monotone he had always used. 

Harry, who had heard the same cut-and-dry story in a dozen reports the week before, stifled a yawn. 

A giggle across the table cut off Bor’s next well-measured word, and every face in the room- and not in the room, as it were –turned towards Eggsy Unwin. The boy had the graciousness to look sheepish, a flush spreading across his cheeks as he met their gazes through his eyelashes. 

“I, uh- I really didn’t mean to-“ Eggsy started, but Harry had no intention of letting him finish his futile defense. 

“No, by all means, Elyan, my boy,” Harry said, sounding every inch the doting uncle. Perhaps it was a bit cruel to take such joy in watching Eggsy flinch at his tone, but Harry had done far, far worse for much less. “I’m sure we’d all love to hear something so amusing it takes precedence over the well-being of fifty innocent hostages, wouldn’t we, boys?” A small, stilted cough. “… And Lancelot, of course.” 

Eggsy squirmed in his chair, eyes flashing guiltily down to his hands, currently tucked underneath the table. Months ago, Harry would’ve been curious, but he’d spent far too long among the younger crowd lately to not pick up on what that meant. 

“Ah,” he said, as if it was a revelation. “I see.” Eggsy squirmed harder. “If you would be so kind as to tell whoever is so distracting you are in a business meeting-“ 

“Harry,” Eggsy tried to break in, desperately, but Harry was giving him no quarter. Damn it, the boy was supposed to be on his side in this blasted power struggle, not reblogging pictures of pugs on his bloody blog. 

“-or tell your mother that the next round of Scrabble can wait until after we have closed for the night.” 

“Arthur.” 

Merlin’s voice cut through his rant, and Harry faltered, eyes flying towards the man. When their eyes met, Merlin slid his gaze, very deliberately, to the tablet resting at Harry’s elbow. When he glanced down, a yellow light flashed. 

Harry’s eyes fluttered closed. “You’re fucking shitting me, Eggsy.” 

Nervous laughter filled the room, the laughter of fully grown men watching their leader be- be- Harry didn’t even know what to call this. It certainly wasn’t courtship, wasn’t even close to it. Harry knew courtship, had courted and had been courted, and this- This was childish, and ridiculous, and- And still, it made his heart beat irregularly in his chest, knowing that Eggsy had been sitting so close, had been talking to him mere moments before, and still thought of him, somehow. Eggsy was mouthing apologies when Harry opened his eyes, and Harry pushed down the urge to kiss the insecurity of his face (and the smaller, more ridiculous urge to pitch his phone out the window). He needed to be Arthur, he reminded himself. Galahad had luxuries that Arthur did not. 

Not that Galahad would have snogged the lad across the table, either, but his smile would have been kinder than Arthur could afford. 

“Perhaps,” Harry said, letting a thread of humour drip from his voice, “I should run one of those ugly theater commercials before we sit down. Do turn off your phones, please, gentlemen.” And, before the cough came, this time—“And Lancelot.” A warmer, softer wave of laughter filled the room as absolutely none of his knights reached for their pockets. Harry nodded, satisfied. “Bors, if you would—“ 

“Hold on a minute, Harry,” Merlin said, and Harry felt his heart sink. There was not a way on God’s natural green earth that this was going to end well for him. “Aren’t you going to open it?” 

Eggsy squeaked. 

“I beg your pardon?” Harry asked, his voice as steady as he could manage. 

“The message,” Merlin said, innocently, as if he didn’t know, as if he didn’t see it plain as day in front of his face, what it was, what it meant. “If it was important enough for Elyan to send mid-meeting, it must be rather pressing.” 

Perhaps the other agents took it as Merlin further embarrassing a former recruit. It was plausible enough; Merlin did take some sadistic pleasure out of occasionally humiliating his old students both on and off the field. But Merlin’s eyes were narrowed on him, shark’s smile hovering on his lips, and Harry knew him well enough to know that this hadn’t a damn thing to do with Eggsy. 

For a moment, Harry considered his revenge- He had some very creative ideas about his candidates for their open positions. Most of them had been inspired by the American trash Eggsy insisted on marathoning whenever he had a spare moment. “To catch a thief”, and all that. Of course, finding a criminal nasty enough to annoy Merlin but reasonable enough to actually be good at the job was going to be hard, but— 

“Merlin is right, sir,” Percival interrupted. “You shouldn’t ignore your agents.” The man had no idea of the depth of the joke, but there he was, teasing Eggsy all the same. 

“Oh, I agree,” Lancelot chimed in. She, of course, knew exactly what was going on; Eggsy hardly ever kept her out of his tangled loop. Harry closed his eyes for a brief moment, gathering patience. This was mutiny, a death sentence on the high seas. He should see them all hanged, or at least given a very stern talking to. “Now see here, Bors was in the middle of-“ 

“I,” Bors said, ever slowly, “would not mind.” 

Bugger it all. 

“Fine.” Harry jerked up the tablet, frustration just under his skin. On a lesser man, the tension in his muscles would have been called a temper tantrum. 

The cartoon ghost sat on his tablet’s lockscreen, mocking him as he drew the complicated ‘password’ Merlin had forced him to commit to muscle memory. 

The app sprung up immediately when he was finished, looking exactly the same as when he’d closed it last. Only one name written on the long white list, and a single pink square. 

Of all the things Harry had imagined Eggsy would bother him with mid-meeting, he honestly hadn’t expected a picture of himself. But there it was, washed-out and pale through the filter. There was nothing special to it, that Harry could see, just a crooked shot of him, listening to someone give a report of something far more exciting than anything he had done in months. 

In fact, it was a frankly terrible picture of him, and Harry realized, with horror, that the sight was familiar. He had seen it right in front of him, for years- It was the craggy old face of every Arthur before him, the same squinty eyes and thin mouth, forever frozen in that unimpressed frown. Harry could feel his stomach turn, painfully. 

Not so different from Chester, apparently. 

It was almost an afterthought when Harry checked the message Eggsy had written on the snapshot. The picture was worth enough words, after all, and every one of them suddenly felt like weights on Harry’s shoulder. But he was a gentleman, after all, and no matter what farce Eggsy had suddenly turned this meeting into, it wouldn’t do to ignore him simply because Harry was suddenly feeling sorry for himself. 

Harry’s eyes flicked down— 

you’re cute when you’re trying to be serious, the black bar told him. 

\-- and flicked back up. Eggsy blushed under his gaze, but didn’t hesitate to meet his eyes. 

“Well?” Merlin prompted, voice slimy with every ounce of his smug superiority. “Anything we should know about, sir?” 

“Only,” Harry said, never taking his eyes off Eggsy, “that Elyan has given me invaluable information, and I will do all I can to thank him. Later.” Eggsy beamed at him, so reminiscent of his first… ‘snap’ that Harry couldn’t help the small upward twitch of his own lips. 

Lancelot’s cooing broke their held gazes, Eggsy glancing away to glare at her, flustered. Harry sighed at himself. The levels of unprofessionalism he had just fallen to were so deep he couldn’t even remember the descension. Making eyes at an employee during a regional meeting? Honestly? It would have been amusing if it hadn’t been against everything a young Harry Hart had stood for. 

“This never would have happened to Chester,” Harry said, dryly. 

“Of course not,” Bors agreed, “but that’s because we fucking hated Chester.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow tumblr user agentelyan for more ridiculous shenanigans


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> three: "At least Chester didn't hover like an overprotective chicken."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't let your dreams be memes

"And you're sure you don't need me to come in."

Merlin's sigh bordered on a whine. "For the love of God, Har- Yes, Louis- Arthur, thank you ever so much for the reminder." Harry let out a rather unattractive snort, and Merlin answered with a little huff that usually meant he was rolling his eyes especially hard. "I still can't believe they put you in charge, you mad bastard." 

"I believe the idea was to ease you all into proper leadership," Harry drawled. "Couldn't very well take orders from someone actually competent after putting up with that mess for twenty years." 

Laughter rung through the line, but it was short and clipped, as if Merlin didn't have time for a proper chuckle. Which, Harry had always suspected, he probably didn't. "At least Chester didn't hover like an overprotective chicken." 

"I do not hover!" 

"This is your second call this morning, Harry." 

"Yes, well." Harry shifted in the over-stuffed chair Eggsy had forced on him upon his birthday. "You sounded stressed." 

"Because you won't let me do my bloody job!" Merlin sighed again. "There are times, Harry, when your job requires quite a bit of waiting. I expect it's a bit trying, after years of being an interfering twat, but there you have it. There's simply nothing for you; Won't be a solitary soul in today, and everyone out is on low-alert. You know I'll call you if you're needed." 

Harry hesitated. "There's always the tech department." 

"Harold Elias Hart, if you spend the day pestering my department, I will have you hung by your big toes in my doorway as a warning." 

"Tristan still after your primary coder?" Harry asked, all sympathy. 

"They went on a date last Friday," Merlin moaned. "They've got her feed minimized on their monitor, as if I haven't noticed, the lovesick twit." 

Harry glanced at his own screen, where he could see Eggsy, fast asleep with a white blanket pulled over his head. "Er, yes," Harry said, awkwardly, as he silently closed his laptop. "I can see how that would be... distracting." 

"I've sent you their fraternization paperwork, by the way." At Harry's groan, Merlin tutted. "I've already done most of the administrative filing, all you've got to do is sign it, you lazy thing. Speaking of frat filing, when you and Eggsy get your respective shit together, I've got-" 

The line went dead. 

"Oh, dear," Harry said, "my hand must have slipped." JB huffed at his feet, and Harry sighed, bending to pick him up. "Yes, yes, I know; Terribly immature of me, you're right. Eggsy would be delighted." Nosing at Harry's collarbone, JB wiggled in delight, and Harry couldn't help but smile down at the creature. "You mustn't tell him, of course. There'd be no living with him." He stood up, and JB climbed even further up his shoulder, licking at his ear. "I'll take that as an agreement." 

The late morning sun was streaming through the windows of the kitchen, a testament to how long he had been puttering around in a robe and slippers. The days Merlin forced him to stay home- 'for my sake, if not yours', he had insisted -increased with every month, and Harry had quickly fallen into the habit of lazy mornings. It was easier, he thought, to forget the job when you haven't got trousers on. 

Of course, there was forgetting the job, and then there was forgetting Eggsy. 

Even when Harry could let the stress of mountains of paperwork and endless minefields of diplomacy be temporarily abated by the scent of Silver Tip Darjeeling, it was hard to forget that while he was tucked away, Eggsy wasn't. Eggsy was, in fact, very much in danger. 

(Of course, Harry was of the opinion that Eggsy was only safe when he was directly in Harry's line of sight. Preferably in his robe, as well, with JB asleep on his lap, and Roxy on the other side of a long-distance Netflix marathon.) 

Merlin could talk himself blue in the face about low alarm missions and milk runs, but the truth of the matter was that Harry could not stop imagining all the ways that Eggsy could be needing him. And then, of course, the other thoughts crept in- Of Roxy, and of Tristain. Of every agent out in the field on his orders, poised just on the edge of the point of no return. It made the tea turn in his stomach, and he placed it, shakily, back on the saucer, where JB slurped it up, greedily. 

"Jack, my dear, I do not believe there is a dog in all of London that could rival how much we've spoiled you," Harry murmured, but his voice was shaky. God, how his scars ached. And his chest- 

How in bloody hell did Chester do it, all those years? And then, Harry remembered, ah, yes, by being a self-absorbed shitheel. 

It was JB's whines that drug Harry out of his fugue, the pug's paws digging into Harry's chest with desperation. His eyes fluttered open, and for a brief moment, his entire mind was flooded with one question- When did he even close them? Slowly, Harry pulled himself together. Eggsy had often commented on how unnatural it looked from the outside, to see Harry shift from slightly rumpled civilian to the untouchable illusion that Arthur was intended to be. 

Until Eggsy had spoken up, Harry hadn't even been aware there was an outward change. To him, it was nothing more than a deep breath and then the slow click of everything falling back into place, one ruffled feather after another. (Eggsy, of course, had laughed his ass off at the explanation, and made bird jokes for a week straight.) 

Sighing, he looked down at the dog, who was still standing on Harry's lap, looking up at Harry with great, big eyes. The whining had stopped, at least, though the pawing had not, and it was with all the gentleness of an exasperated but fond father that Harry took JB's paws in his hand and lowered him back down. 

"Honestly, I don't know what has gotten into you-"

Distantly, Harry heard it: The buzzing of his phone. 

"Taking up secretarial duties are you? Eggsy must have been on YouTube unsupervised again." Honestly, Harry was going to have to stop talking to the dog like a human, before someone important saw it- Like Eggsy. Or the Queen. "Down we go, then." 

With exaggerated care, Harry sat JB on the floor, and then left the cozy kitchen, robe fluttering and tiny doggy claws tick tacking on the tile floor behind him. They made a strange procession up the narrow set of stairs from the kitchen to the upper floors- an old servants' passage, Harry assumed -and, eventually, Harry found his phone where he had left it the night before. It sat lonely on his nightstand with only his watch for company (very expensive, if rather boring, company), blinking yellow up at him. 

"Eggsy," Harry said, despairing. 

Of all the things he had imagined would become a problem in their fledgling relationship, Snapchat wasn't one of them. 

And, Harry imagined, if they were anyone other than what they were, it likely wouldn't be. But as Eggsy's boss, he knew exactly what Eggsy was supposed to be doing, and smartphones were not part of the mission plan he signed off on. Social media and kidnappings of foreign crime lords did not usually mesh well together. 

'Low alarm mission,' his foot. 

With a huff, Harry hefted the phone in his hand and slides the screen unlocked in one smooth motion. He could feel the disappointment settle in his chest as he thumbs through the app; Since his... reemergence in Eggsy's life, Harry had made sure to reign back his expectations- There was, he knew, nothing that could kill a relationship like one putting the other on the pedestal, and as their mutual exhibits had been smashed quite skillfully by Valentine, Harry had no reason to let himself build them back up. 

He had, however, thought Eggsy knew better than this, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Which was why the picture that was waiting for him was so surprising. 

For the first time, Eggsy wasn't alone in the shot. In fact, Harry could only see half of his face- gelled hair mussed and then pushed in a hasty quiff, the one eye and its darling laugh lines. Another sliver of the screen was taken up by Roxy, her own face tilted into the shot, the visible eyebrow rising almost to her hairline. 

And between them, sat the mark. The man was obviously unconscious, eyes drooped closed and the tiniest bit of drool running from his mouth. Still, Eggsy had propped the man's head up on his own shoulder, and had one arm slung around their captives' neck as if they were all old friends. Eggsy's smile, or the little of it Harry could see, radiated smugness in a way that only those who believed themselves invincible could perfect. 

His eyes trailed down to the caption, squished down to the very bottom of the screen. "From Czech, with love," it said, framed by numerous black and white cartoon hearts. 

Harry breathed out a laugh, his chest aching with fondness. He could feel every iota of the Arthur persona melting from his bones, rather without his permission, and contentment curled solidly at the base of his spine. Suddenly, nothing mattered but the words on the screen- not the Russian crime web, not JB's noises from the other side of the bed, not even the man propped against Eggsy. No, Harry Hart was quite gone, and all that was left was an old man smiling daftly at words he wasn't half sure he deserved. 

Eventually, the message closed- Harry hesitated for a moment, as if it would come back if only he bid it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #noregrets
> 
> find me @nixcarraway on tumblr and @asleewrites on twitter
> 
>  
> 
> next is supposed to be a short, smutty one so it'll probably only take me 12 months this time to update

**Author's Note:**

> concrit welcome, as always! xoxo
> 
> (the next one should be better, yeah?)


End file.
